By the Light of the Moon
by chaoticbutterfly87
Summary: Under the light of the full moon Javert turns into the Kissing Monster. Previously posted on the Les Mis Kink Meme.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The Kissing Monster is a direct reference to an episode of Playschool, featuring Philip Quast, where he makes a monster Blue Peter-style from boxes and other odds and ends. The 'monster' takes on a number of guises, including a 'Kissing Monster'. The clip can be found on Youtube.**

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Javert hated night chases. No matter how well he knew the town the shadows nearly always gave the pursued the upper hand – there were plenty of tight corners and dark passages in which to take refuge and wait with an iron bar to hand. Tonight, however, the moon shone bright with the sky almost cloudless, and for that Javert was thankful.

"Halt!" the Inspector's deep growl echoed down the stone alleyway. "Not another step."

"Or what?" Javert's quarry, hideously bony and decorated with a toothy smile and claw-like hands, snorted at the advancing Inspector's chest.

"You will come to know the full force of the law." Javert was nearly upon him.

"The full force of the law?" the scoundrel questioned. "How you fill me with terror, Inspector." And with a mocking laugh he made to take flight once more.

If only he had been quicker he would not have felt Javert's huge hands seize his grimy linen shirt and slammed him hard against the stone wall.

"There's only one place for scum like you." Javert's icy blue eyes bore into him.

"Scum like me?" another faux laugh. "I hear you're no better than the rest of us – born in a gaol, so the story goes."

"Quiet!" Javert snapped sharply, punctuating his command with another hard thrust of his catch against the wall.

The crook was relentless. He whispered maliciously as a wedge of moonlight glided over them.

"What do you plan to do, Javert?"

"Kiss you."

Javert's voice remained steely, his expression earnest.

"Beg pardon, Inspector?"

"Kiss you" he repeated.

Javert pursed his lips and kissed at the cool night air in an exaggerated manner. His prey, still trapped between the stone and the policeman's broad frame, fought to squirm free. Javert repeated his actions, his thin lips closer to the criminal's scarred cheek, the noise wet.

The crook's expression knitted tight with confusion. He couldn't keep a slight tremble out of his voice: "Are you well, Inspector?"

"I am."

Javert darted his tongue to moisten his mouth, pressed his lips tight together, mashed them against his victim's own and pulled away a long while later with a wet squelch. Javert continued and rained theatrical kisses in the space between them as the criminal writhed yet again: he kicked his legs, flailing like a fish on dry land; he tried to close his hands around the Inspector's thick wrists; he begged feebly to be set free. It was only the sound of approaching footsteps, resonating off the rough brickwork, which allowed him to sigh with relief.

"Inspector Javert?" Monsieur Madeleine's voice called out.

"Monsieur le Maire! Thank Christ!" The trapped man stilled and his voice alone conveyed his desperation. "Inspector Javert – he's gone quite mad!"

Javert paused, his lips circled in an O and his brow furrowed. His eyes widened a little just as the moonlight was veiled by a thick cloud.

"Monsieur le Maire" he murmured as his gaze first fell upon the man then the way he had him pinned before him.

In a brusque action Javert eased his hold and caused his detainee to fall heavily to the ground, before promptly turning on his heels and addressing his superior with a small dip of his head.

The scrawny delinquent had scrabbled to his feet. "He tried to kiss me – Inspector Javert…" He patted down his grubby breeches as the words hurried out of his mouth. "He did…he…Javert tried-"

Valjean held up a hand, cutting short his stumbling speech.

"Inspector" Valjean switched his attention to Javert. "Is this true?"

"Of course not" Javert huffed as he straightened himself up to full height and squared his shoulders.

He turned back to the cretin in front of him: in truth Javert had no recollection of the accusation out before him. Nor was this the first time an incident such as this had occurred, and Javert was forced to revert to his customary course of action:

"Leave!" he ordered sternly, "And do not dare to cross my path again."

The felon needed no more telling and he speedily left the two men listening as his echoing footsteps faded to a distant nothingness. There was a brief silence before Javert spoke:

"I must continue my rounds."

"Of course" Valjean nodded and made to take his leave. "Goodnight, Inspector."

Javert bowed his head in return. "Goodnight, Monsieur le Maire."

They set off in opposite directions. Halfway along the alley the Mayor stopped and glanced back over his shoulder at Javert, his silhouette highlighted in lunar light. For a fleeting moment he swore Javert stretched his neck up and made an elaborate kissing gesture to the bright orb high above them.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Contains mild slash.**

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There. The last report was stamped and signed. Lord, he had come to hate this time of the month. Javert huffed a sigh whilst soothing his tight temples with his fingertips. Another deep release of breath and he got to his feet. He had a plan as meticulous as any to see it through – now that he was aware of his socially-questionable behaviour – but it didn't make the experience any easier to bear.

Javert slid his weighty greatcoat over his bulky frame, sat his hat atop his head then, tucking his nightstick under his arm, took his leave for the day. Evening was not completely over Montreuil-sur-Mer, but the ombre cloak high above indicated it wouldn't be long before they were completely swathed. He lived not quite ten minutes away, in one of the more modest dwellings; still, he walked with a brisk, purposeful stride in a race against the stars.

Having left the station much earlier than usual now afforded him with the chance to give attention to the ever-growing mound of papers that had taken root on his desk. At least, that was the plan until a brusque rap on the front door demanded his attention. The Mayor was stood the other side.

"Forgive me, Inspector" Valjean, still in his Mayoral guise and a touch breathless, didn't allow Javert a chance to greet him. "I have urgent business to attend – May I leave Cosette in your care for a short while?"

Javert dropped his sea-blue gaze downwards; it was only on hearing the child's name that he became aware of her presence. Of all the people, Javert thought, Monsieur le Maire wanted to leave the child with him! Why not one of the factory workers, the local priest or midwife (someone with experience in dealing with such creatures). Heck, there was even a cell going free in the station at present if no other solution could be found.

Javert buffeted his train of thought. "Of course, Monsieur le Maire."

Javert held out his arm, rigid and prostrate, to the little girl. Swallowing a wince, the elder man knelt so as his own blue eyes met those of Cosette's large, sad ones.

"I need you to stay with Inspector Javert, Cosette." His large hand rested on her reedy shoulder, "Only for a little while."

"You will come back, Papa?"

Valjean kissed the top of her head at that, "Of course."

"Come, Cosette." Javert clutched her hand, rougher than he intended.

Valjean nodded a thank you to the Inspector before he straightened up and took his leave. Javert, with Cosette now in his arms and spindly legs hooked about his waist, watched as the darkness swallowed the last few wisps of daylight and momentarily scrutinised the heavens for the orb that had become a curse to him.

Back in the safe harbour of the sitting room Javert had little notion of what he should do with the child; his best effort to amuse her consisted of supplying her with a scrap of paper, a pen and half-empty bottle of gloopy ink before he returned to the pressing matter of his paperwork. They were quiet for some time, and Javert found himself wishing that all children could be as easily appeased and silent as Cosette seemed to be…until there came a starburst of delighted laughter and a jump jangled his nerves.

"COSETTE!"

It was the fright and his own inability to compose himself that rankled him more than the child. He turned sharply, his growl still evident in his features.

"I made a monster." She explained innocently, her eyes glossy.

Javert trailed his line of sight from the girl to the chair next to her – a shakily drawn circle for a face, an incongruent mountain range for the teeth and mouth, onyx pools for eyes and tangled worms served as hair – had been sketched onto the paper and the object hooked onto the back of the chair.

"I want to catch monsters, like you."

At that moment Javert made his first memory around something other than duty or distain. He felt his heart warm as a smile teased his lips.

"He needs clothes and a name." Javert said, his tone very matter-of-fact, and he left the room.

He returned presently with a rumpled, moth-eaten greatcoat and another piece of paper. Cosette watched with enchantment as Javert swathed the coat over the frame of the chair.

"Now, what shall we call him?"

Cosette thought for a moment: "Philippe."

"Very well. Now he needs a number." He picked up the pen and, with the fresh paper, handed them both to Cosette. "Write, Cosette – Two, Four, Six, Oh, One."

Cosette held her handiwork out to Javert and watched as he secured it to the front of the worn greatcoat. Helping to craft this monster had been all Javert had intended to do, but in the presence of a child whose beginnings had involved a life so much in a world of make-believe that the activity soon escalated and Javert was swiftly swept along by her current. A chase game had ensued, each alternating the role of pursuer and pursued; Javert wasn't completely sure how Cosette had found her way into the garden, and whilst he was confident that she couldn't get any further than the thicket of its boundaries, the idea of leaving her to return of her own accord and the wrath of the Mayor if, God forbid, anything should befall her was enough to push Javert over the precipice and risk his own capture by the moon's glowing snare.

He could hear her sweet giggles, taunting him to step out of the shadows.

"Cosette" his voice was firm. "Come out, now."

Another giggle. Another taunt.

"Cosette." His voice deepened, edged with a growl.

She was hiding behind the apple tree at the far end of the garden; a garden that was currently awash with silver light.

"I'm not Cosette" the child's voice floated across the grassy gulf, "I'm a convict and you have to catch me."

Javert squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deep; maybe he could quickly dash across to her. Seven or eight large strides, scoop her up and get back before there was any real effect upon him. Alternatively, they could maintain this stalemate until the Mayor's return and he could retrieve his daughter…but, if something should happen; if she should move and fall, if she should escape the garden, if…

"To hell with it!" Javert muttered through an exhaled breath, and he made his first bold step into the watchful eye of the moon.

His focus was Cosette; he didn't register his tongue sliding between his dry lips, or the squelching noises as his lips pressed hard together then released. The rapid fire of kisses continued upon reaching Cosette; she giggled to begin with, as one caught her cheek, the next the top of her head.

"A kissing monster!" she cried, laughing still, as the Inspector swept her up, and she ducked about in his arms.

Another brush of his lips caught her ear. "Please Monsieur, no more."

Javert, however, seemed not to hear her. She ducked from another swipe of his lips and kicked her legs to wriggle from his hold.

"Monsieur." The girl squirmed some more. "Let me go."

Javert stepped into the shadow of the house as the Mayor's voice was heard across the garden. On seeing her father, Cosette writhed frantically to be free of Javert's arms. At once the Inspector slid the blonde-haired child from his hip to the ground and she bounded to her father's side.

"Papa!" she shrieked excitedly, "Inspector Javert and I were playing."

The clouds rolled over and a cool breeze fluttered around them. Valjean gave the girl a gentle smile: "Go inside, Cosette, I need to speak with Inspector Javert."

"Monsieur le Maire" Javert bowed his head, "I did not see you; forgive me."

"I watched you, Inspector." Valjean's voice was stern. "You didn't stop when Cosette asked you to."

"Asked me?" Javert's expression contracted with confusion.

"Just now" Valjean gave a small nod of his head, "She seemed rather distressed."

Javert truly could not recall; he remembered standing in the shadows privately debating whether to fetch Cosette, followed by his surprise at the appearance of the Mayor. It was on seeing the garden radiate with bright light from high above that Javert was able to make sense of the conversation.

"I'm afraid I do no recall, Monsieur le Maire." Javert looked at the Mayor directly in the eye.

"Do not recall, Inspector?" Valjean sounded perplexed.

Javert swallowed thickly, "As absurd this will sound to you, it is the moonlight, Monsieur le Maire."

"The moonlight?"

"Yes" Javert remained sombre. "For as long as I can recall, there have been many puzzling moments where I have found myself in situations that have been quite unexplainable, and I have no recollection as to how they came about. These situations, I have been told, involves me-" here Javert paused, unsure if he could bring himself to let the word pass his lips, "…involves me kissing a frightened party, or object. There was even one instance where I kissed a horse." He added that last part almost as an afterthought before continuing, "In recent months I have become confident exposure to moonlight is the cause."

Throughout Valjean's expression had danced between amusement and bemusement, and the seriousness of Javert's countenance and tone of voice, only caused further mirth for Valjean. It was the proclamation about the horse that had truly done it and, on the final utterance from Javert, a huge bout of laughter burst forth from Valjean.

"Monsieur, I do not jest!" Javert indignantly stamped his foot before he grabbed tight of Valjean's own greatcoat and twirled them both into the silvery wash just feet away.

Valjean was shoved against the rough stone wall, hard enough for the breath to be beaten out of him. Javert had the lapels of the elder man's greatcoat scrunched in his fists, clinging so tight as though he would drown if he didn't. Valjean wasn't able to take another breath before the Inspector's thin lips were hard against his own and his sleek, wet tongue pushed deep into his mouth. He could feel it there, exploring every crevice, sliding against his own, the soft tip pressing firmly against the pillowy flesh of the roof of his mouth. The Mayor shifted his stance, though not much as Javert had him pinned tight between the wall and his own body; so close that Valjean could feel the planes of firm muscles beneath his shirt. Another small movement and their hips were flush; that insistent tongue was pushing towards his throat as something else pushed with equal resolve against Valjean's stomach. Valjean was confused, it wasn't a sabre as Javert wasn't in full uniform, nor could it be his nightstick for that matter. A gravelled moan echoed through him, the only source of which could be his police inspector, and he at once realised just what was demanding his attention.

Valjean should push him away, he knew. Lead Javert back to the shadows and discuss what they were to do, yet he couldn't. A small seed, long kept in the darkness, now had the water and light it had craved and the bloom opened in a starburst of colour; Valjean's large hands gripped Javert, one on the expanse of his back, the other firmly on his hip, and pulled the man towards him. The hand on the inspector's back quickly slithered up and into the long tresses of hair as Valjean widened his mouth and twisted his tongue around Javert's own.

Another cool breeze weaved between them, and for which Valjean was grateful, but it pulled with it another veil of cloud. Javert's actions ceased as rapidly as they had started; Javert stood apart from the Mayor, his eyes fixed on the floor, breathing hard and the sheen of wetness around his mouth allowed him to quickly deduce what had transpired.

Valjean, with the primitive cortex of his mind still relishing the delight that raged a torrent through his blood, spoke with a coarse egde: "Tell me I was better than the horse."

"How can you jest?" Hot embarrassment flushed into Javert's cheeks. "You must dismiss me, Monsieur le Maire. I am not fit to do my duty."

"Nonsense, Javert!" Valjean scoffed. "You will remain in your post and on nights such as this, you will come to me."

Javert did not look up.

"Am I understood, Inspector?"

Javert raised his head a little, meeting Valjean's blue eyes out the corner of his own. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

"Good. Now, tell me more about that horse."


End file.
